I'm sorry Millie.
Avera's PoV:
My breath is ragged. I'm lost. The sun is unrelenting and the streams near me have dried up. I'm not a brave, courageous sort. What day is it? Day, day, day? Day... 28? 27? Which ever. Water. Water. Water. I have an idea. I cut a line into my wrist, not deep enough to kill me but to draw blood. What is blood except water with a bit of extras? I drink the small amount of blood but it tastes absolutely disgusting.
Oh well, it's better than nothing. I have a bit more strength at least. I crawl over to a bush that holds thick berries, blue in colour, with a red leaf. I grab it, but before I can eat it...
"I wouldn't do that." A male voice calls out. It's another tribute. Jackson. District 7, male, a tree in the parade, nice brown suit for interviews. "Those are toxic." Oh shocker. The berries I was about to eat are toxic. Wonderful. "How did you know? How do I know you aren't lying?" I yell. He sighs and says, "My brother died from those. I think I'd remember them.". Oh. Well, sorry then. I give a sort of awkward laugh. He doesn't really hear.
But I do. I draw my bow, he wields a gladius. And they surround us. A dozen giant lions, like those from storybooks. They tower over us, golden and proud looking. I let the first arrow fly. It hits true. A mutt falls, crushing a smaller one. 2 gone, 10 to go. Jackson fights like a hurricane, knocking down 3 in one go. I nock my arrow, and it kills one off. The ground is littered with the lions' corpses but more come.
Oh God. I'm out of arrows. I grab a dagger from my belt, a last resort. I stab the lions but they slash with steel claws. My clothes are reduced to rags, my face too. My dagger arm is horribly mangled but I'm fine. I keep going and so does Jackson. "Oh God, this isn't very fun." Umm, well done, Captain Obvious! He's in bad shape though, so I keep that to myself. Finally, this wave of beasts are over.
I was mistaken. A final monster creeps out of the shadows. It's larger than the others. It's mane is made of gold. It's an indestructible machine of gold and silver. And hate. It tears my arm up to ribbons, my dagger gets lost in the confusion as a cannon rings, and I look at Jackson. He's dead. And so am I.